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Love made Hal uncomfortable. He figured it all up to having to watch his mother carry on after his father died, but he wasn’t going to admit that the reason he chose to take simple pleasure over commitment was because he was afraid of the mirror image happening to him like it did his parents. So, he chose warm bodies and easy nights, sneaking out in the early morning hours and back to his apartment where he could move on with the day. And living life like that, without strings attached, was great, awesome even—that was until he’d met the eldest Wayne.
A cocky serviceman just like Hal, but (Y/N)’s cockiness wasn’t arrogance or putting on airs. The man knew what he was about, knew how good he was at his job and didn’t let his words get ahead of his actions. If he couldn’t prove he was going to get the job done with his words, he’d do it with action and stand in silence. Hal knew everyone in the superhero community looked up to (Y/N) like they did the heroes like Clark and Barry. The heroes they could count on, the calvary to come running in at the last moment and turn the tide. That’s the type of man (Y/N) was. And Hal had screwed himself when he finally managed to take the Wayne out on a date and more dates after that, that led to each man effectively having a drawer of space in each other’s apartment.
And the closeness, the affection, the love that was growing between them, was effectively what had erupted into their argument.
***
Their voices were hoarse, hours—at least it felt like hours—of screaming back and forth at each other, hits below the belt that both of them knew better than to say, but still escaped their throats.
(Y/N) stood apart from Hal, the man just a few feet away and he thrust a finger towards him. “You’re afraid. That’s what you are,” he hissed and Hal almost recoiled.
“Of what? Of you? Hardly,” he scoffed.
“No, you’re afraid of love.” Hal felt like he’d been slapped, brows shooting up to his hairline, but (Y/N) wasn’t stopping at the shock. “I don’t need the psychology degree to figure out why though. Your entire personality and life do a fine job of telling everyone. Love scares you and you don’t know how to function with it.”
“Are you calling me a coward?” Hal accused, anger flashing across his face.
(Y/N) snapped. “YES! YES, I’M CALLING YOU A COWARD, HAL!”
The Lantern surged forward, sending the two tumbling to the ground, and they weren’t really punching to hurt each other, but the frustration was obvious, especially when (Y/N) pinned Hal to the ground, hands wrapped tightly around the pilot’s wrists, all his body weight pinned on the man’s hips.
Hal jerked, trying to get out of the strong grip. “Let go!” he shouted.
“No,” (Y/N) replied, definitely much calmer than the last few seconds. “I’m done fighting with you.”
“I’m not!” Hal retorted. “Goddamnit let go!”
“I’m not letting go until you relax. Until we both relax.”
They glowered at each other for solid minute, then, ever so slowly, Hal’s fists began to uncurl, the muscles in his arms going slack as his body went limp beneath (Y/N).
“I love you,” (Y/N) murmured, watching Hal’s eyes widen. “And I don’t care how uncomfortable it makes you to hear it. I do. Look, I know you’ve spent your entire life running from love because you’re scared of commitment, I get it.”
(Y/N)’s hands started to untighten, gently trailing up Hal’s wrists to lace their fingers beside Hal’s head. “I know you’re scared of what happened to your parents happening to you, but you’ve gotta realize that you and I live each day as if it were our last. All the time. It’s who we are, Hal. We put out lives on the line for the greater good.”
Hal’s fingers unconsciously bent, clenching down on (Y/N)’s hand. “Why be afraid of the uncertain when we live it?” He tried for a smile but managed a grimace. “I’m not going anywhere, Hal. I’ve seen all of you. Every scar, every sin, every bad mistake, I’ve seen them all.”
He searched his lover’s gaze. “Do you think if I didn’t want you around that I’d still be here? That I’d wouldn’t love you despite it all?” (Y/N) swallowed thickly, one hand leaving Hal’s to cup the pilot’s cheek. “Hal, there’s nothing in this universe that I want more than to spend however much time I have left with you. If it’s five minutes or fifty years. I want it all. I want you.”
Hal held his gaze for as long as he could, then his eye snapped shut and he let his head loll back, thunking against the hardwood floor of (Y/N)’s apartment. The telltale tremble of his lips told (Y/N) all he needed to know, and he shifted, stretching his legs down Hal’s as he rested his head under the man’s chin, one hand still curled in his lover’s, the other holding onto his shoulder.
“I want you,” he whispered again when Hal’s free hand came up to curl around his head. “I want us. And if I have to spend every day proving it to you, I will. But I’m not going anywhere, Hal.”
Hal was too choked up to find the words, but he squeezed (Y/N)’s hand in a strong and quick motion. Three hurried clenches for three simple, yet full words.
(Y/N)’s lips tugged into a smile, and he shifted, pressing his hand to Hal’s cheek again. “Hey,” he urged. “Look at me.” Hal did, albeit it took him a minute, tears in his coffee eyes; (Y/N) leaned down, softly pressing his lips to Hal’s. “I love you,” he breathed against his lover’s lips. “More than you’ll ever know.”
Hal swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Me too,” he whispered.